


Aria: Fiore Vivace

by MonsterAmongCashton (IfWallsCouldMuke)



Series: Aria della Fiore [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Calum Hood, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Surprise Ending, Top Ashton Irwin, Top Choreographer! Calum, Top Composer! Ashton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfWallsCouldMuke/pseuds/MonsterAmongCashton
Summary: Maybe it’s the word‘always’that’s engraved on his and‘forever’on Calum’s that makes their promise rings ebullient.OR,husbands! Cashton that was half-self-indulgent. xxx





	Aria: Fiore Vivace

**Author's Note:**

> *insert angry Canadian noises*
> 
> Trivia: Originally titled "Aria: Fiore Presto" but my mind isn't that... decisive.
> 
> Luke on Ice part two.

Ashton tilts his head to the side when he hears a noise. He knows that it’s his boyfriend of long time when he feels a familiar warmth atop his head.

“Hi, princess,” he grins, setting the piece down and pecks Calum on his lips. “I was writing a piece for Luke.”

“And I was in the mood to suck your dick,” Calum counters.

“You gotta come up with a choreo,” Ashton reminds the half-Kiwi.

“Yeah, after you’re done writing the piece,” Calum rolls his eyes fondly. He effortlessly throws the not-even-started paper away from Ashton’s working desk. “We can… try to motivate you, _daddy_.”

Ashton gulps.

The thing is, as long as Ashton can remember, he’s been triple D—demiromantic, demisexual, demigender—and sex has been… not easy for him. He just has yet to find _the one_.

“Babe—”

“I know, daddy,” Calum presses his lips to Ashton’s. “Don’t wanna rush it either.”

“We’ve been together longer than Luke and Michael have been public,” Ashton reminds his boyfriend. “You have a high sex drive, Cally, I don’t want you to be suffering.”

Ashton doesn’t fight it when Calum shuffles down until his beauteous face is level with his straining cock, both parties grunting low. Wordlessly and effortlessly, Calum undoes the strings of Ashton’s yoga pants and starts tasting the precum pooling at the slit.

“Fuck, princess…” Ashton grouses, unable to say anything else. Calum moans around his mouthful, waiting for Ashton’s further instructions; he’s given none.

 

Ashton grips onto Calum’s growing curls and starts snapping his hips upward, pleased by the choking noises his boyfriend produces. He slips out just before he reaches his high and rams Calum’s back against the nearest flat surface—a wall.

“Ooh,” Calum giggles, grunting low in pain when Ashton spanks his glorious ass. “Ngh, daddy, I can’t wait…”

“Shh…” Ashton purrs, grabbing the lube and lubricating his fingers before he slips them inside Calum’s hole. “I won’t disappoint you, my princess…”

“I— _fuck_ ,” Calum almost slides down the wall once Ashton’s fingers are lodges deep inside his tightness, locating the prostate so expertly. Ashton spreads his fingers, curls them, and jams them into his boyfriend’s sweet spot until Calum comes with a shout of ‘daddy!’

“Fuck…” Calum mewls, still shaking from the aftershocks. “Daddy…”

“I’m not done yet,” Ashton promises, sheathing himself with a condom and drizzling more lube on himself. “Fuck, you turn me on way too much for me to ignore you.”

“Mm, that’s the whole point…” Calum replies snidely.

Ashton grunts low once he’s sheathed by Calum’s tightness, enjoying the feeling. If this is what he can feel—whole and _fiercely protective of his princess_ —every time they make love, he wants to do this as oft as possible. He tightens his grip on Calum’s hips and starts swaying his hips forth and back, a loud, broken, beautiful, blissful moan spilling from Calum’s plump, kiss-bitten lips. That only spurs him on, creating a rhythm only they get to hear until the only thing Ashton can hear is the _presto_ of their skins gliding against one another. This is the music he’s been needing, he realises as Calum mewls, a signal that his boyfriend is close, and he reattaches their fervent lips back together, kissing in a frenzied heat until they’re both spent.

“ _Mi amore_ ,” Calum pants, apparently not able to hold himself up, since Ashton has to carry his boyfriend to their bathroom. “You killed me.”

“In the best ways possible,” Ashton giggles, pressing a fond kiss to his princess’ lips.

                                                                            ///                   

Calum dozes off in the tub, and Ashton just watches his boyfriend as he plays with Calum’s dampened hair, his other hand entwined with Calum’s where their promise rings wrapped themselves around. When Ashton first got famous for composing Michael’s last piece, _La Derni_ _ère Danse avec la Lune_ , and was paired with Calum for the choreography, he fell in love with how Calum was the Moon he’s been searching for his entire life. They easily fell from monthly meetings for _work purposes_ , to weekly _how have you been_ , to daily _I can’t stay away from you_ sleepovers. Their first kiss was in the ice rink where Calum tried to get Ashton to skate and Ashton only got a permanent bruise to prove he can’t skate to save his life. Their first time proper pashing was in the backseat of Ashton’s gay purple _2009 Volkswagen Bug_ and they rutted hastily until they both came.

Ashton wants more, and it only seems like there’s only one way to achieve that.

                                                                            ///                   

“We’re going to the Waffle House in New York City, why?”

Ashton spanks his boyfriend’s ass _lightly_.

“Ow!” Calum’s exaggerated response suggest his hand is tad bit stronger than he anticipated. “What was that for, asshat?”

“Well, you ask stupid questions,” Ashton rolls his eyes fondly as they board the private jet Michael lent them because he was _in a good mood_.

“Mm, I always wanted to check ‘mile high club’ off my to-do list,” Calum giggles adorably, his dimples deeper than any-fucking-oceans in the universe.

“You gotta behave for that to happen, sweetcheeks,” Ashton lets out a short _heh_ sound at his snide refute.

He gets smacked in the biceps as a retaliation.

“I called you _sweetcheeks_ before, baby boy,” Ashton faux-huffs.

“You can suck my ass,” Calum faux-glares, then dissolves into _I-can’t-get-mad-at-you_ giggles.

 

 _Five hours later_ …

“I’m mad at you,” Calum groans when it takes forever and a day for them to claim their baggage.

“Not my fault this is one of the busiest cities in the world,” Ashton presses a _I’ll eat you out later_ kiss to Calum’s temple, which his boyfriend accepts.

They check into the _Sweethearts_ suite and Ashton curses at the fact that he forgot to request the staff _not to_ decorate the room like they’re—

“Um, we aren’t married, yet, but this is still… cute, I guess?”

Ashton wants to kick himself in the balls to the point of being sterile. The _entire_ room floor is covered with red and pink rose petals, and there are at least a dozen red helium balloons. To make the matters worse, there’s a fuck-tonne of candles forming a large-ass heart.

“We should tip the décor person a lot,” Ashton says dumbly, simply due to the fact that he has an overwhelming desire to choke someone in a non-sexual way.

“Ditto,” Calum giggles, hearing the strain in Ashton’s words.

///

Giggling, Ashton lets his boyfriend lead him to the Manhattan Waffle House.

“Ah, the memories,” Ashton giggles more as they get into the line. “Remember the first time we came here on a date?”

“Oh yes, it was right after you finished writing _La Derni_ _è_ _re Danse de la Lune_ ,” Calum giggles some more. “You insisted that you drink water, but I asked the barista to give me an extra straw and ended up sharing the half-vanilla, half-chocolate milkshake.”

“And then I spilt at least a good half of it on your jeans,” Ashton grimaces.

“That’s how I knew you were a keeper—you’re clumsier than I am!” Calum bursts into laughter as Ashton orders what they did years ago.

 

“Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Irwin,” Calum giggles, and Ashton decides to play along.

“Well, I’m from West Vancouver, real close to all the ports you see in the guide books,” Ashton stirs their drink. “I was maybe thirteen when I first composed a piece. I played it for my audition to _The Next Star_. They wanted me to sing, and I did. I was a horrid dancer, you know this,” he winks at his boyfriend. “I finished as a runner-up for first place. Michael, that bastard, was in the audience for the last show. He didn’t know I already promised Luke to write for him, but I decided double employment ain’t that bad.”

“Mm, when did you meet your partner-in-crime, Mr. Irwin?” Calum giggles.

“It was fated,” Ashton takes Calum’s right hand—where their promise ring lays—and kisses the ring before continuing. “Like it is fate today.

“Calum Thomas Hood, I knew Fate brought us together, and I was enchanted to met you… you made me so damn happy for last four years, but will you, the love of my life, _my fuckin’ soulmate_ , marry me?” He slides down to one knee, looking up at his boyfriend—hopefully his _fiancé_ —as he opens the red velvet box and reveals a ring that has a cluster of diamonds surrounding a single 15-carat sapphire-cut garnet.

Ashton can’t tell if it’s his tears or Calum’s when Calum kneels and claims his lips, the kiss tasting strongly of their eternal vow of forever.

“Of-fucking-course, I’ll marry you, fiancé-mine,” Calum giggles, watching Ashton’s shaky fingers slide the engagement ring onto his right ring finger right atop the promise one, two of them matching perfectly.

Maybe it’s the word _‘always_ ’ that’s engraved on his and ‘ _forever_ ’ on Calum’s that makes their promise rings ebullient.


End file.
